Heart's Kin
by Otter Seastar
Summary: Semmhirhage X Shaidar Haran. These sadistic beauties have recognized each other, with interesting results. New and somewhat bloody chapter up!
1. Heart's Kin

This is basically a Love is Blind episode written by a Shadowspawn fanatic (me). Thanks to Min Daae for the inspriation. Fetches are quite fetching, no:D

Oh, and I don't own WoT.

Heart's Kin

Screams reverberated around Semmhirage, as she sent arrow after slim arrow of fire shooting through her captive's body. The sweet sounds seemed to curl in the air, sending delicious shivers down her spine. They felt almost as good as Shaidar Haran's caresses.

Abruptly the screams died away, and she realized she had dropped the weave. Biting her lip, she drew again on the One Power. The man she was interrogating would never give her the answers she needed if she couldn't stop thinking about her lover's big hands, his moon-white skin, his…Once again, the weave collapsed.

_Stop it!_ she mentally snapped at herself. _You have a job to do! The Great Lord will not be kind if you fail at this because of your daydreaming about a Myrddraal! _Drawing harder than ever on the Power, she brought the man to writhing agony, and then began questioning him. But his answers were lost in a remembrance of Shaidar Haran's kiss. She ground her teeth in frustration. Never had she been so addled!

She had long been fascinated by Myrddraal, their snakelike movements, their ability to vanish into shadows, their keen eyeless vision. Their pleasures and minds were much like hers; she understood them better than humans. Whenever one gazed at her, she felt he was looking deep into her soul, and liking what he saw. She wished to earn more than approval, to show that in her heart, she was one of them.

Always, she had resisted her desires. Most people saw Myrddraal as base creatures, tools of the Shadow—certainly not things one of the Chosen should lust after! But Shaidar Haran was no mere Halfman. Hand of the Dark, far more powerful and magnificent than any other, he stood incredibly high in the Great Lord's esteem. Being his lover was cause for great honor and pride. And more pleasure than anyone believed.

Suddenly, there he was. Appearing out of nowhere, he flowed across the room with liquid grace and stopped between her and the man hanging on the wall. His gaze washed over her. "Have you learned the answers yet?"

Semmhirage trembled. She longed to lean on his broad chest, to feel his arms around her. Despite her height, she felt small and frail. She knew she was strong: only a very strong woman could enjoy the might of Shaidar Haran's passion. But when he stood before her in his glory, she always forgot.

"N-no," she stammered. "He is, uh, very determined not to tell. But I'll make him. I always do." _Blood and ashes, I hate babbling!_

"I hope you succeed soon. Otherwise there won't be time for…anything else, before you leave for the attack." He smiled. "And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

She swallowed, as if to quell the fountain of hunger and heat rising within her. "No, we wouldn't. I'll redouble my efforts."

He stroked her cheek with a snowy finger. "You are a woman to set any Myrddraal's heart on fire. I look forward to our meeting after you are done with this." He bent to kiss her softly, and then slipped away in the shadows.

Trying to slow her racing heart, she noticed that her captive was smirking through his pain. "What are you smiling at?"

"That's why you kept stopping," he chortled. "Even Darkfriends have weaknesses, I see. Love fuddles you like everyone else!"

"We'll see about that," she replied, reaching for the Power once again.


	2. Eyes of the Dark

_A/N: This story assumes that several years have passed after CoT without certain characters being killed or their situations drastically changed. _

_Please tell me if this chapter is too graphic to be rated T. I've never done much gory writing, but the Demonic Duo is worth a temporary change in style. _

Eyes of the Dark

As Moghedien stepped through the gateway into the interrogation chamber, a piercing scream suddenly stopped. An instant later, she was pinned against a wall, with Semmirhage glaring down at her in fury.

"What in the bloody, _flaming_ world are you doing here?" snarled Semmirhage. "You've cost me a valuable prisoner!"

A naked woman hung motionless on the opposite wall. Dozens of small cuts covered her body; blood poured from a deep gash on her chest. It was obvious that Moghedien's arrival had startled Semmhirage into accidentally killing a captive she hadn't finished torturing. A sure way to anger someone that no sane person wanted to upset.

Moghedien shuddered, wishing she could vanish into the floor. But Moridin stroked a fingernail warningly across her mind, and she stood her ground, staring up into that merciless face, those blazing eyes.

"Y-you've missed three meetings in a row," she stammered. "We're meeting now, and Moridin sent me to say that you m-must come. Our plans are changing, our enemies are moving unexpectedly. We n-need you. Please!"

Abruptly, she was released. Semmhirage turned. "Learaal! Salwyn!"

"Yes, Mother?" chorused two voices.

Moghedien jumped. Two young children stood under the corpse. Boy and girl, they were otherwise identical, with light brown skin and shoulder-length black hair. Blood spattered their black tunics and breeches. And their eyes… Bottomless black pits that seemed to shine with demonic fire.

A chill wormed into her heart, as it always did when she saw the children of Shaidar Haran. They were proof of Semmhirage's immense power. She, Moghedien, had been reduced to a cowering slave by the huge Myrddraal, the Dark Lord's Hand. But Semmhirage had thrived under his attentions and happily borne his twin children, who even as babies had radiated malevolence. They were like walking fragments of the Great Lord himself, and their twisted mother had been so honored for it that she was practically Nae'blis.

"Dispose of the body and clean this room," she was saying now. "Then prepare to leave. I don't know if we're leaving, or where to, but I want you ready. Understand?"

The boy nodded. "Yes, Mother." The girl grinned and licked blood from her hand.

"Good." Semmhirage's lips curled in a faint smile, and then turned sternly back to Moghedien. "Take me to the meeting."

Moghedien reached for the One Power, shivering silently. The woman and her unfathomable passion had unleashed a terror onto the world.

Salwyn tipped her head back, letting warm, salty blood trickle into her mouth from the body above. Learaal made a face. "Don't _do_ that."

She lowered her head. "Why not?"

"It's nasty."

"Oh, don't be such a rabbit. Have some."

"No!"

"Fine. You're just stupid"

"And you're just ugly with blood on your face."

She stuck her tongue out at him and then tipped her head back to drink again. Her brother was strange. He tussled as fiercely as her, and enjoyed strangling stray dogs and cats in the streets outside their house. But he wouldn't touch blood, or get dirty at all. How could he be a mighty warrior, like her parents said he would be, if he was so fussy? It wasn't fair.

Learaal got a stool and stood on it to unchain the body, ignoring Salwyn's angry squeal. He let it fall on her, knocking her to the floor, and laughed as she tried to push it off.

His sister was strange. She lapped blood and tore at meat like a Trolloc, without the least embarrassment. He liked killing as much as she did, but he didn't _wallow_ in the filth of his victims. It was low, what she did, not right for a child of warriors. But she always made his parents happy. It wasn't fair.

Through a hidden portal, Shaidar Haran watched the scenes unfold. A smile warmed his lips. Moghedien was a handsome female; punishing her for failure to the Great Lord had been no hardship. But she couldn't compare to his Semmirhage. Tall and magnificently built, a flame of pure cruelty glowing in her big black eyes and sensuous smile, Semmirhage had kindled his desire with a glance. Evil to the core, most fearsome and glorious of the Chosen, she was a prize fit for the greatest of the Great Lord's servants. And she was his.

And what children she had given him! Learaal, a coolly dignified little killer, already adept and graceful with his short sword, was a son to be proud of. Salwyn brimmed with lust and fire; her feral grin over a tattered animal carcass aroused in him a fatherly affection he was sure no Myrddraal had ever felt before. They would be powerful warriors of the Shadow—in fact, they already were. The Great Lord's spirit was entwined in their bodies and souls; through their eyes he observed the world. For this reason, they had been christened _Shai'seia_—Eyes of the Dark.

_A/N: OK, so those aren't normal children. What would you expect Semmirhage and Shaidar Haran to produce?_

_And yeah, I'm aware that Myrddraal are thought to be sterile. But somehow I doubt that theory was tested very thoroughly. If anyone has authoritative evidence, I would love to hear it. ;D_


End file.
